


Shut Up And Dance With Me

by MashpotatoeQueen5



Series: let's dance in the kitchen and call it something like love [5]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alaska, And Staving off Boredom with dance parties, Best Friends, Boredom, Boys Being Boys, But not in the stupid way, But they're dealing with it, Childhood Trauma, Cold, Cold Weather, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Dancing is good for the soul, Dick Grayson is Robin, Escape, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Happy, Healing, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hodgepodge Electronics, Impromptu Dance Party, Injury, Kidnapping, Kids Being Happy, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Injuries, Music, Radio, THE GOOD WAY, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team Fluff, Team as Family, Teambuilding, Teenage Dorks, Teenage Shenanigans, Teenagers, Those little punks, Waiting, Wally West is Kid Flash, Young Justice Season 1, dance party, i love them, in the goofy way, kids with issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashpotatoeQueen5/pseuds/MashpotatoeQueen5
Summary: The Young Justice team has escaped from some would-be kidnappers, and are now awaiting pick up from the League.The League, all of whom just so happen to be busy at the moment....Leaving six teenagers all alone in a cabin in the middle of the wood among the Alaskan tundra. With nowhere to go. And nothing to do.Predictably, shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Artemis Crock & Dick Grayson & Kaldur'ahm & Kon-El | Conner Kent & M'gann M'orzz & Wally West, Artemis Crock & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Kaldur'ahm & M'gann M'orzz
Series: let's dance in the kitchen and call it something like love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665436
Comments: 18
Kudos: 208





	Shut Up And Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Synapse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synapse/gifts).



> Dancing is the best medicine. It brings me such joy. And thus it will bring joy to all my characters, too.
> 
> Lyrics and Title from Walk The Moon's "Shut Up and Dance".
> 
> Synapse prompted: "Team ends up in an impromptu dance competition back in Team Year Zero or One era? (Something tells me highschool-era Wally and Dick would have a lot of fun jamming out and trying to out-do each other.)"

It’s cold.

It’s absolutely  _ freezing _ cold, and kidnapping absolutely sucks: the two facts of life for the Young Justice team at the moment.

They’d gotten out of it, of course. They were _idiots_ for getting caught but not so idiotic that they couldn’t _escape_ , and now they’re all huddled up in an abandoned hunter’s cabin they’d found in the midst of the woods somewhere in the northern reaches of Alaska.

Because of course they had been transported smack dab into one of the most isolated areas in the world.  _ Of course they were. _

Robin had offered Artemis a thermal blanket he had pulled out of….  _ somewhere _ \- crop tops aren’t made for sub-zero temperatures, after all- and everyone was grumbly and downtrodden because of the situation. The bioship was out of commission, Wally was nursing a concussion and a severely hungry stomach, metabolism rudely refusing to stop even when he had been unconscious, while Superboy stared daggers into his own fists.

(Kryptonite encounters were never fun. Aqualad had been half carrying the other boy while making their escape.)

M’gann had taken a nasty shock of electricity, Robin had a gash across his forearm, Kaldur had three broken fingers, and Artemis was dealing with the aftereffects of the knockout gas and some mild hypothermia, but they all had had worse and they were  _ fine. _

In fact, they were so fine one could even say that they were… bored.

Very bored. And cold.

Six bored and cold and  _ frustrated  _ teenagers cooped up together in a tiny house in the middle of nowhere, with nowhere to go and nothing to do until one of the Justice League members came and picked them up.

One of the Justice League members, all of whom just so happened to be occupied at the moment.

Because clearly luck wasn’t on their side.

For the most part, it was silent. There wasn’t really much left to be said and every last one of them was all too aware that speaking would probably result in an argument, a confrontation that the assorted whole was far too exhausted to deal with at the moment.

M’gann is sitting as cautiously close to Superboy as she dares, working through the jolts of pain echoing through her frame with cautious fingers. The teen himself continues to clench and unclench his fingers, keeping track of the slow return of his powers and dealing with the tired achy  _ why should I ever move again  _ feeling that most teens get upon a particularly rigorous workout.

It’s not familiar to him.

….He hates it.

Artemis is buried under both her gifted blanket and Robin’s cape, holding a hand warmer and lamenting her place in the world. She keeps moving her toes and fingers, trying to rub some warmth onto the skin of her stomach. She’s used to Gotham’s cloudy greys and blizzards, but the cold outside had been  _ bitter  _ and she would quite like to go to her nice cozy  _ warm  _ bed and never come out again.

Kaldur is meditating. Kaldur has been meditating for a while, eyes closed and breathing deep and even, gills occasionally fluttering as air whistles through his nose-

Kaldur is…. most probably asleep.

Robin thinks he might be the only one who notices this. He would say something, but exhaustion has been pulling at his own eyelids for the past hour or so now and he doesn’t blame their fearless leader in the slightest. Instead, he focuses his energy on mourning for the remains of his gauntlets, shredded and sparking and very likely beyond repair. He’s going to have to get new ones.

….Batman is going to kill him.

Wally is leaning his head back against the wall, gingerly prodding at the healed wound matting his hair with blood. His foot has been tapping against the hardwood floor at an inhuman pace for the last five minutes, and the team’s resident archer’s left eyebrow has started twitching.

Before she can say anything, however, the red head bursts to his feet. There’s something a little wild in his eyes, but that might just be the lingering concussion.

“I am,” he declares, voice booming after all the silence, “ _ so bored.” _

His pronouncement is met with blank stares and tired eyes, even Kaldur jerking awake to give him a vacant gaze, and the redhead groans in frustration before he begins to vibrate in place.

“C’mon guys, doesn’t anyone have  _ something?  _ A pack of cards, dice, some sort of crazy alien road trip game?”

Kaldur sighs. It is a sigh that comes from somewhere deep, and pained. The sigh of teenagers put in charge of other, more rambunctious teenagers everywhere.

“Wally...” he says, voice faltering and tapering off.

The speedster doesn’t let him finish.

“No! Seriously, c’mon,  _ anything. _ I’d even take the radio over  _ this.” _

And slowly, gradually, all eyes turn to their youngest member.

Robin blinks out at them, fingers curling from where he had been toying with his shredded gauntlet, and clears his throat. It's quiet again, but an expectant sort of silent, an eager one. And the Boy Wonder shifts and purses his lips and then offers, awkwardly-

"I’ll see what I can do.”

It takes maybe twenty minutes, a minor explosion, and three debates on material use, but then Robin fiddles with the hodgepodge machine and a warbling voice comes through, more static than anything, before the young teen frowns at it and gives it a mighty  _ whack  _ and it becomes clear.

Kaldur sighs at the perfectly reasonable news broadcast that starts filling the room. He could stand listening to this for a few hours before pickup... 

And then Wally snorts and zooms up to the machine, narrowing his eyes at it.

“How do you change the channel,” he says, “I want some  _ music. _ ”

Robin shoos him away, and everyone watches with an oddly bated breath as their youngest carefully,  _ carefully,  _ messes with the radio frequencies until music starts coming through the speakers. It’s tinny, and it sometimes fades in and out, but it’s  _ there,  _ and the Boy Wonder pumps his fists into the air in victory.

Wally isn’t far behind him.

“Yes!  _ Now  _ we’re talking! Am I a genius? Yes, yes I am.”

Connor pipes up.It’s the first time he’s spoken beyond an angry roar since the initial kidnapping, and it’s a welcome sound.

“Robin was the one who made it work.”

Wally doesn’t look at the other teen, but he does point an accusing finger towards the Kryptonian, all the while focusing on the radio, already starting to move to the rhythm.

“Shhh, Supey. My awesomeness is what inspired this radio’s creation, and  _ thus:  _ I am a genius.”

Artemis snorts. It’s a valid response to the frankly silly statement, but the speedster still shoots her a stink eye. The music warbles at a higher decimal as Robin messes with the machine, and then the song changes to a familiar tune, peppy and bright and vibrant…

_ Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me _ _ ~~ _

Wally’s bright green eyes latch onto the whites of his best friend’s mask. There is a smirk crawling across his face, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he begins to shuffle across the room in a strange hop step that might pass as dancing on some strange alien planet. 

(Though, judging by the confused look on M’gann’s face, maybe not even there.)

“I,” says the speedster, still moving closer to the younger boy, “challenge you to a  _ dance duel, _ Rob.”

Now, Robin is a vigilante.He’s trained under the Dark Knight, under  _ Batman,  _ verily the scariest leaguer there is. He spends his nights fighting the grimy scum of Gotham’s underbelly and has done so since he was nine. He’s faced monsters walking under the guise of men, knows how to break bones in any number of ways, and has hacked the Pentagon. Twice.

He is a  _ professional. _

He is…. also a thirteen year old boy. 

No one is surprised when he grins in turn, rising up to his feet and already starting to jive to the music. There’s something bright in his smile, something alive in his veins, and the music thrums with an energy that is beyond any one name.

Most might call it shenanigans. The kinder might call it friendship. The teens hauled up in that small abandoned shack would call it salvation, because one can only take so much brooding and boredom before they go insane.

“Challenge accepted!” the Bird crows, and when Wally grins and throws his hands into the air, waving them around in a dance one might call  _ Crashing Helicopter Blades of Chaos and Death,  _ the younger boy cackles and starts moving, too, twisting and shuffling with every beat, both boys trying to outdo each other in outlandish moves and spirit.

M’gann floats into the air, recognition dawning on her features, a smile starting to bloom from where she was once morose. This, too, is good to see, and far preferred to her pained frown from before.

“Oh,” she says, “Is this a dance party? I’ve heard of dance parties!”

She too begins to move to the rhythm of the song, twirling mid air and laughing as the tune begins to pick up. She claps along with the beat, keeping time with the song, and something is rising in her chest, expanding and flying and pushing her ever higher.

_ We were victims of the night, the chemical, physical, kryptonite~~ _

She catches Kaldur’s eye and beams, reaching out for him, and the teen sighs and smiles and clasps her hand with his own, allowing himself to be pulled up to join the dance. Robin is going through a ridiculous array of flips, and Wally is moving so fast he is hardly more than a blur, and there are scuff marks on the floor from where furniture has been shoved aside in favour of open space and gesticulating limbs.

A thousand things are happening at once, and he gives M’gann twirl and subjects himself to be twirled in turn, something warm in his eyes, even if he doesn’t precisely know what he’s doing.

He doesn’t think anyone does. Maybe that’s the point. 

There are no steps to this mad caper. There are no rigid instructions and deeds to follow through on. There is just them, just a group of teenagers alone in the woods, music playing from a makeshift radio and exhaustion giving way to energy they found all on their own. They are heroes and vigilantes and children and they will take what relief they can get.

Kaldur closes his eyes and lets the music take him away. 

Superboy is standing, now. He’s not sure when he rose from the floor, or why, but he can feel the pulse of the music deep inside his bones, vibrating loud and bright and rigorous. It’s like when he leaps into the air, that brief moment when he’s at the highest point in his arch, stomach tingling and chest bursting with fresh air, right before he starts coming down and it still feels like he can fly.

It’s like that, but trapped mid motion, reverberating on and on and on. 

Robin is standing on tiptoes to give Wally a spin, the speedster taking it as a challenge to spin as many times as humanly possible without breaking the younger boy’s wrist, a miniature tornado of yellow and gold.

Thrumming, thrumming, deep inside of Connor’s chest. He breathes it in and it does not leave him, cannot leave him, not now when he is surrounded by sound and life and something infinite and unnamed and possibly beautiful.

_ She took my arm, I don't know how it happened~~ _

M’gann catches his gaze, beaming, gesturing for him to join her and Kaldur, who is doing a swaying motion that doesn’t quite look right out of water, and yet is perfect nonetheless. Superboy takes a step towards them, something like a smile catching at his own lips, and then hesitates.

Artemis is still in her little corner, wrapped up and oddly small in the face of the movement all around. Her eyes are dark and almost suspicious, her fingers clenched around the miniature heating pad held in her grip.

He looks. He narrows his gaze.

He decides.

Three large steps get him across the room, and he reaches out a hand made of steel to the blonde, face blank but eyes starting to grow in joy, in life. These are hands carved to break and learning to love. These are hands that are only now becoming gentle, but they are reached out to hold even so. 

Artemis looks up at him. Conner looks down at her. M’gann claps, claps, claps along and Wally is doing a surprisingly competent moon walk across the cabin, everyone else cheering in the background. 

This is a young woman who is only now learning how to be a child, who was beaten and bruised and scarred into growth that could hardly count.

These are two young souls who still have so much to learn.

_ And yet- _

Something determined crosses the archer’s face, something brave, and she reaches out and takes the offered hand. She’s pulled to her feet with possibly a bit too much force, but she uses her momentum to swing Conner around, watches his eyes widen and the smile grow on his features, small and learned and hesitant and  _ there. _

_ I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me~~ _

And they dance. The world is cold and dark beyond the borders of their found kingdom, filled with thieves and monsters and men, but it cannot touch them here, where the lights flicker and the music sounds, where they move and breathe and dance as if their cares and worries are a million miles away.

Who knows? Maybe they are.

They are dancing and wild and free, limbs occasionally whacking against each other in the small space, partners trading back and forth, the rhythm caught in their bloodstreams and escaping out through their grins and laughter and swiftly moving forms. 

Twisting and turning and leaping and bounding. Shimmied shoulders and swinging hips. Jazz hands and moonwalks, tangled limbs and beaming faces, a hodgepodge of dance moves across eras and genres, none of it making sense and yet it feels good anyways. 

So they keep at it. 

The song ends, and another follows after. The dancing doesn’t stop.

Slow songs, fast songs. Songs made for frolicking and songs made for a waltz. Music is made to move to and the energy does not fade. When Red Tornado finally arrives some hours later, they are breathless and jittery and full of laughter and adrenaline and something brilliant and bright.

But at present they are dancing, dancing, dancing, and nothing can touch them now.


End file.
